


In Our Lungs

by St_Machine



Category: Florence + the Machine
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 16:10:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5462825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/St_Machine/pseuds/St_Machine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Florence couldn't sleep at night and found out some thing she had never noticed before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Our Lungs

**Author's Note:**

> It is not from tumblr this time, just a draft I've found recently and corrected a bit. No action, just a flow of emotions with no beginning and no end.

The sunbeams are sneaking slyly into the room through the window as if being afraid of me, of the walls that are welcoming them with their print and all these piles of weird stuff in every corner of the shloft. You went out of our tiny studio just a couple of minutes ago and I immediately grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen, eager to write down all the thoughts which have been overwhelming me all this night. But now, as it always happens, with a buzz of twirling thoughts in my ears, I’m just unable to write even a few words. You know, what a trick these dancing phrases and images blending together can play on you so that the next moment you can change your mind utterly. No wonder I’m staring at the spots the rays of sun leave on the carpet feeling the emptiness in my head. It’s too quiet in the shloft, I’m a bit confused by the silence shaking slightly in this room that is always filled with blaring music and our voices. I need to produce a sound just to cut the silence’s wings and make it cowardly hide in one of the dark corners among the hills of unnecessary rubbish and quaint stuff. But, surprisingly, there is something truly fascinating in this bashful peace and I gain the strength to breathe in only after a good minute passed by. 

The gulp of the air creeps into my nostrils and slips down my throat, jumping right into my lungs ready for it and I can nearly sense how the sound releases there and tears me apart from inside, compelling me to open my mouth and let it go like a bird that had been caged up for too long. Come out, come out, be free, chime in the air of sunny dust and bring me the joy, you, that was released between two lungs…

Between two lungs…

I like how it sounds – a bit weird, dreamy and quirky and I’m write it painstakingly right in the middle of the innocently white sheet of paper. Don’t blame me for the secrecy, darling, but I feel the need to figure everything out on my own, separate the thought from the image and make up the logical sequence… However, I’ve never had a good head for logic, so my efforts are futile from the start, though I honestly try to struggle with the chaos in my poor mind for a while. So, what do I have?

I heard your quiet breathing while you were sleeping. We had to spend the night in the shloft because we forgot about time, absorbed in music and talking. This is one and this is two.

After some time I caught myself on counting your breaths and thinking what dreams you could see. What flashed under your eyelids and hid among your eyelashes or tangled in your hair? Or was there only darkness, sweet warm blackness where you were floating namelessly? This is three.

I imagined that the breath having slipped out of you flitted between us like a hummingbird and then found its place on my lips, prompting me to taste it in order to feel the connection. I felt the weightless touch of its colourful wings on my skin and let it in delightfully. That moment I knew I would sleep no more. This is four.

Terrified to wake you up, I drew closer avoiding the rustle of the sheets and took more attentive look at your peaceful face. I awaited, listening to your breathing and holding mine, concentrating on what I had obliged myself to do. And then it came – the moment when you gave a deep breath out and I caught it, my entire body trembling to the core as if I was doing some secret ritual. It escaped from you only to be captured by me. What an insidious plan… Oh, this is five.

One and two, three, four, five.

Five… Four… Three – two – one, quicker quicker. 

Between two lungs.

No more gasping for a breath.

I took your soul this night and you don’t even know that. Do you feel strange? Do you feel that? Isa, tell me. Oh, I forgot, it’s a secret. Sorry. I’m so absent-minded today. My hand holding a pen cannot keep up with the train of my thought, as it goes faster and faster and faster, disappears in the horizon and melts in the sunny dust of this room. While my fantasy and I are still alone, I must write down everything, the sequence is done and all I have to do is to give them a visual form, give them the kind of birth. 

Between two lungs.

I’m still connected to you. There’s the strange idea in my mind that I created the chains which entwined us together. So, do you feel that? Will these chains break if you’re away from me? Or will it just grow longer and longer keeping me high-strung and nearly mad? Having caught your breath, I took something frighteningly powerful from you by chance and did it carelessly, but it doesn’t make me stronger. Instead, I’m going weaker. 

Come back.

Looking out the window, I notice your short, sophisticated and exquisite figure approaching our shloft. I hop up and run to the darkest and most cluttered part of the studio to hide the paper sheet in one of the countless chests piled there. You won’t see it for some time. 

Come in. I’m now waiting for you with a smile and your soul.


End file.
